


I Never Imagined Missing You Like This

by QueenStilinski



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Character Death, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Lydia Martin/Stiles Stilinski, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Lydia Martin Self-harm, My First Smut, Shameless Smut, Stydia, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-11-07
Packaged: 2018-04-15 02:49:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4590219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenStilinski/pseuds/QueenStilinski
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lydia Martin is desperately and deeply in love with Stiles Stilinski, but sometimes, fate has other plans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Say Something

_"He still **likes** her, doesn't  **he**?"_

_" **Yeah** but its  **different ** now."_

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

The day started as any other, only Lydia Martin stood in her room, pacing about a nervous wreck as her best friend, Allison, sat snugly on her bed, a wide grin settled on her pink lips as she shrugged a little. "Lydia, relax. There's nothing wrong for having emotions for anyone." She breathed the words out silkily, like it was that simple. Like it wasn't actually wrong for Lydia to feel the way she did but the worse thing was, deep down in her heart, Allison felt a longing for Lydia that ripped at the surface. Allison knew things that Lydia still had yet to figure out, a deep, dark secret that she refused to be the barer of. Allison had seen Lydia crumble over this so many times, had seen her break, had seen her cry and scream and hide her face in pillows and beg for her to leave because she didn't need anyone seeing her cry. Allison had seen scars that had once not loitered cream skin, had seen the different bruises from Lydia gripping her own arms to control herself, had seen her bite her tongue to snap back the tears, had seen her hold her head high and pretend that fear was a feeling she didn't know, Allison had watched from afar, and from close as she stumbled over her words, as she had bit her lip so hard it bled, as tears kissed her skin and she grew too tired to care that people were staring at her in the back of the class, wiping her eyes and blaming her non existent allergies.

 

"You don't  _understand_  Allison!" Lydia's voice was shrill as she threw her hands into the air, frustration written across her lips. "I'm falling. Falling  _in love_ with someone I desperately want who I shouldn't want because they're my  _best friend-_ aside from you of course." Lydia's rambles brought themselves to a halt when she noticed that she had referred to someone else as her best friend- but it was true. Aside from Allison, this particular asshole was her bestest friend, and she'd forever feel guilty for the things she felt for him.

 

" _Relax._ " Allison hissed back, standing and placing her hands on the shorter girls shoulder. Lydia marveled in the comfort of the smile that Allison drew back onto her glowing face. Dimples pressed into her skin and her eyes crinkled with a reassurance that screamed for Lydia to relax, to calm down, that screamed that it would be fine, and everything okay. Staring into her chocolate eyes had Lydia breathing out in slow, controlled puffs as the older woman continued on. "He loves  _you._ He loves strawberry blonde girls, five foot three, with green eyes. He loves  _Lydia Martin._ You have nothing to worry about. You're too gorgeous to worry." Allison whispered to her and her soft thumb stroked over the baby skin of Lydia's cheek, before she crouched and picked up the bag that Lydia dropped in her fit, handing it to her. "Here. Lets go." And with that being said, Allison hoisted her own bag over her shoulder, placing a hand on the lower back of the short girl at her side, and Lydia found herself relax, pushing down the tears and replacing it with her normal smile. _  
_

 

* * *

 

 

Arriving at the school, the small redhead's confidence flew as the entire ride the lioness next to her- Allison- peppered her in facts on how this boy loved her. She didn't think there was so much proof to show he still did. So, Lydia now, completely confident, and ready to take on the world, slipped out of the car, placing her beautiful pumps on the ground as her floral dress kissed her thighs, and allowed her body to carry her up the steps of the high school, pausing once inside. Lydia had forgot how many people that had attended the school, and she paused and waited for Allison to join her, clicking away on her phone, definitely texting Scott, Lydia had decided.

 

"Stiles should be in the locker rooms. Why don't you go get him?"  And so thats what she did. 

 

Nervous as she was, Lydia walked with confidence in her every step, a fake confidence, but people believed everything and anything all at once, after all. she couldn't just let anyone begin to think she was loosing her charm, in fact she never had it and she never lost it, if anything she's been gaining more confidence than she had before. Now, Lydia's green eyes stared straight ahead of her, focused on what she wanted, and usually warm gaze shimmered with distant fear. Scott paid no mind when he brushed shoulders with her, exchanging a small hum of a greeting, similar to the ones he had exchanged when he was worried, and small smiles that the large Alpha no doubt gave to any and every pack member that seemed on edge, and if there one thing she knew about herself, it was the fact she was edged for so long.  Teetering back and forth between forever okay and being forever lonely and terrified of the loss she might experience. 

 

But, Lydia had rounded the corner just too quick, entered with just a little too less warning, jumped with a little louder sound. Moans. The sound of moans and heavy breathing filled the steamed up mirrors. There before her, stood Stiles Stilinski with Malia Tate wrapped around him, his hands on her hips and squeezing as he balanced her between his body and the wall of lockers. Hands trailed tanned, sun kissed skin, and she just couldn't wait to get the attention of the older boy, but at this point, Lydia wasn't sure she wanted to see him. In the past Lydia was never one to get jealous, not over someone she wasn't with, but seeing bodies intertwined, bodies that barely knew each other, bodies that touched each other lewdly and she paid little to no mind to the aching in her stomach, and the screaming in her feet that begged her to run, to run and seek comfort, but the problem was the person who she always begged for comfort from, was the one tangled up in a other girls body.

 

Lydia felt wrecked watching the boy devour Malia's lips, only to feverishly part and begin pressing them down her neck. She watched Malia tip her head back on the shelf, shaky lips breathing out moans of absolute approval for Stiles. The brunettes hands desperately gripped at her hips, pushing up under the top that Lydia had told Malia to buy weeks before because it would look great on her. Apparently, it looked too good. Or not good enough because it looked like Stiles wanted to tear it from her body.  His fingers pressing, digging into tan skin beneath her shirt, small noises leaving Malia while Lydia could practically  feel the vibration of the growl Stiles was letting out in his chest, in fact, she could. Lydia could feel each of Stiles' touches on her own skin. She knew his hands better than he did, she knew how his hands felt brushing gently over her arms, she knew how his hands felt desperately holding onto hers, loosely holding onto hers, sadly holding to hers. She knew how his hands felt grabbing her sides and dragging her into his chest. She knew his hands in the way that he pressed one on the small of her back, while the other stroked her hair as he held her and shielded her from the cold pain that tried to attack. She had felt Stiles in so many ways, she knew how his body fit perfectly into hers, how he felt with his arm draped across her. But Lydia Martin did not know how his body felt like that. She didn't know how he felt, pressed up into her, leaving kisses on her neck that she'd need make up to hide, or how he felt brushing his lips against her own, whispering against them with hot breath telling her he needed her. She didn't know the feeling of his hands desperately gripping her hips while he ground his against her. She didn't know him like that.

 

And thats what broke her. She came undone, and in a silent hurricane of pain and want, she backed out slowly, before she broke out into a run. She needed to get out of here. Her throat tightened uncomfortably and she felt an intense pain stabbing into her chest. She felt her heart literally,  _literally_ break. She hadn't seen this coming, she had never seen Stiles moving on from her. She saw him getting less and less interested but she was his first crush, right? There was no way he'd move on that quick! Just.. Just weeks ago, Lydia had him in that same place in the locker room, knelt on the floor with her fingers grabbing his cheeks desperately, with her wide eyes staring into his squinted up teary ones. Just  _weeks_ ago, she was falling into his eyes while she pressed her lips against his in a kiss that held much more than a tatic to get him to not panic, and she thought he knew that. Just weeks ago, she was coming undone before him, her fingers curled in front of her, lips still parted from their kiss, tingling for  more and her eyes slowly opening, nothing but awe in them, it hadn't been that long since Lydia breathlessly whispered that he held his breath.

 

It was too much, too fast. So Lydia, caught in a fit of tears and the need to scream, not as a warning as someones death- or maybe it was. Her own death, because part of Lydia Martin died when Stiles Stilinski didn't love her anymore. That part of her, was the largest part of her. So, Lydia, tear coated, broken hearted, Lydia pushed through crowds, trying to contain her silent tears and failing every time a sob would push past her lips. She saw Allison briefly, whose dimpled smile dropped the moment she caught sight of red locks bouncing towards the door, and she saw Kira whose heart fell to her feet when she had the slightest glimpse of her tear stained face, and Scott. Poor Scott who looked at her with such a heart broken gaze she swore she was looking into her own eyes.  Maybe that was because Scott smelled it on her. He smelled her pain and her heart ache and he felt completely fucking horrible because it was a pain he couldn't take from her. 

 

"Lydia.." Scott's voice was gentle, cracking as he reached a hand out to grab her wrist, and he had been just a moment too late as their fingers brushed in the slightest, and just as fast as she appeared, Lydia was gone.

 

Tear stained cheeks flushing red as the water from her eyes felt more like rain on her face then they did tears. Saltyness kissed her lips leaving a bitter taste in them. She had trudged across the parking lot, swinging her door open and climbing in it. She sat there, starting her car, and then she gripped her steering wheel a bit too tightly between her hands, her knuckles painting white as she sat there, shoulders heaving, eyes blurry. It only took her a minute to begin slamming her hands down against her wheel, a small scream of a sob leaving her before her hands lifted to her face, fingers curling around waved strawberry blonde locks, ripping at them in frustration. It only took her a few minutes to calm down again though, and now dull, lifeless eyes stared blankly ahead of her as she slowly backed out of the parking lot and headed to the one place she knew she was able to go to for this perfect thing.


	2. A Little Too Late

_I could **fuck** you all the  **time.**_

* * *

 

 

 

Stiles' breath was heavy against Malia's neck, and he knew that. With every breath it would bounce off her neck and brush over his own face. He smirked slightly as the blood began to flow to his crotch. Okay, so Stiles and Malia had fucked before, so now Stiles knew how it felt to be inside her, and maybe his body wanted back in, a bit too much, a bit too often. So here he was, in the middle of the locker rooms first thing on a Tuesday morning before school, pressing his body up against hers and digging his blunt nails into her hips, mumbling profanities against her neck. She didn't seem to care.

 

His hands trailed down over her sides, then up. His fingers dug in roughly as he let his teeth press down on skin- when the bell blared in his ears.  _Fuck._ Sighing through his nose, Stiles parted from her and let her slide down onto her feet, tilting his head to the side slowly as his honey eyes dropped down to her. "Okay, so..-" He had been about to suggest they meet up lunch time, when Malia took in a deep breath, and shook her head. "We should go talk to the others." She had simply said, before her fingers pressed him away from her and jolted out the door. Malia must've smelt or heard something, and it left an uneasy feeling in Stiles' stomach. As he turned to leave, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket, and had taken it out to ten text from Allison, five from Scott, and two from Kira. Fuck, was something wrong?

_[Allison]: Stiles._

_[Allison]: Where are you?_

_[Allison]: What the fuck did you say to her?_

_[Allison]: Stilinski, answer your fucking texts._

_[Allison]: What. Happened._

_[Allison]: Were you with Malia?_

_[Allison]: Where are you?_

_[Allison]: Answer me!_

_[Allison]: Stiles!_

_[Allison]: I can't believe you._

 

_[Scott]: Dude, what happened?_

_[Scott]: Stiles, where are you?_

_[Scott]: Message me back man, were freaking out._

_[Scott]: I'm worried, answer me._

_[Scott]: Do I have to come looking for you?_

 

_[Kira]: Is everything okay? What happened?_

_[Kira]: Do you know where Lydia went?_

 

_Lydia._ Something happened, but Stiles wasn't even sure, he'd had his body and mind so wrapped around Malia and the idea of fucking her right then and there, up against the lockers, that he hadn't even noticed his phone ringing. Worry slammed into him and he felt the air leave his lungs, he felt himself stumble forward before he had broke into a sprint, jerking his body towards the exit, and let his feet carry him in a run down the halls.

 

* * *

 

 

Outside, Scott stood with Allison and Kira. Scott was on his phone, trying to call Lydia, Allison seethed with anger and seemed to be trying to contact Stiles, while Kira simply tried to calm them both down. "Hey, hey. She's probably fine. She's probably gone home. Maybe we should just wait til tomorrow?" Kira suggested, and Allison paused, nodding her head. "I'll go to her house after school." She decided, and slipped her phone away, but Scott seemed a little more edgy about the idea. He had a sick feeling that Lydia had not ran off to home, and he felt something wrong was about to happen, until he turned to see Malia jumping down the steps calmly and Stiles jerking his way out of the room, smacking into some poor passerby and stumbling.

 

"Where is she?What happened? Why is everyone freaking out?" Questions flew from Stiles' lips and his eyes were wide with pure worry. Despite being wrapped around Malia previously, Stiles still loved Lydia, and it showed in the way he always jumped to her aid, and he was so use to being there to comfort her that the idea of her being upset and him not being close enough to her to grab her and hold her tiny self into his body, completely wrecked him.

 

But it was Allison's turn to be frustrated. Anger floated around her aura so thick that it could definitely strangle the air out of those around her, and the anger, was directed at Stiles as she twisted to him. "Why don't you tell us,  _Stilinski._ " She hissed as her long legs brought her over to him, perfectly manicured nail stabbing into his chest. "Lydia was going to talk to  _you_. She was  _fine_ when she left and then all of a sudden I see her teary eyed and sobbing, running out of the school, only to run out after her and see her speed off in her car?! What the  _fuck_ did you say to her?" Rage, there was no other way to describe the look in Allison's normally kind eyes. "If I find out you hurt my best friend, I will  _destroy_ you. You may not be a werewolf or a threat, but  _no body_ hurts Lydia." She snarled, her pink lips pulling back over her pure white teeth in the action. "You better hope she's just home, or you're dead." She snapped before shoving him out of the way, and storming inside, leaving the air tight around the group.

 

Stiles, the entire time, just stood there, jaw slack and mouth hung open with wide eyes. His fault? He would never hurt Lydia! Lydia Martin, the girl he'd been head over heels for since third grade- him, hurting her? No, no no no. He wouldn't. He physically couldn't. His body wouldn't let him hurt her and his brain definitely wouldn't. He would do everything in his power to protect her. But, Stiles couldn't speak. As Allison began walking away, he turned after her and quickly followed, lips trying to form words as small whimpers left him, trying to explain. "I haven't even seen Lydia today." He managed, feeling the pang of guilt in his chest, and the normal worry for the small girl that was missing. "I haven't spoken to her since yesterday, Allison. I don't know what happened." He whispered finally when he was close to her, his fingers curled around his wrist.

 

"You better not have." Allison shook him off, shooting him a look that shrieked 'Don't touch me, asshole' before she stalked back into the school.

 

* * *

 

Lydia's car came to a stop outside a large building, and she left her phone there, locking the doors after she was out before she quickly made her way inside. She waited til she was in the opening, to cross her arms and watch the large figure by the window of the loft. Her eyes went over his back, taking in his back muscles as he stood there shirtless, basking in the early suns light. "Derek." She greeted simply, earning a grunt as he turned towards her. Lydia had done this before, and she could feel herself growing more and more at ease as she slowly approached him. "Where the hell have you been, you overgrown dog." She hissed, eyes blazing.

 

Derek had simply turned to her, arms crossed across his chest, muscles bulging as he watched her. Hearing her words, Derek felt a slow pang of anger. Oh, so thats what she wanted. He noted the teary look in her eyes, and the redness of her cheeks. She'd been crying. Fine, Derek knew what to do here. "Thats none of your business." He said simply, walking towards her. "What do you want?" He breathed, standing before her, eyes blazing as he watched her. Derek had grown accustomed to this, he knew what to do with Lydia, he knew what it meant when she stormed in without warning, demanding where he'd been- even if they had seen each other the day before, she always found a way to call him an overgrown dog, a glorified puppy, something along those lines to crawl under her skin, and it was always successful. She did this when she needed a good, hard,  _fuck._ When she needed something  _primal._ Derek was the best one to do that for her.

 

"Shut the fuck up."

 

Derek's eyes lit up blue, and he let out a low growl before he grabbed her by her hips slamming her up against the walls and basking in the way she gasped before he connected her lips.

 

* * *

 

 

_[Stiles]: Lydia?_

_[Stiles]: Lyds.._

_[Stiles]: What happened?_

_[Stiles]: Where are you..?_

_[Stiles]: Please talk to me._

_[Stiles]: ..._

 

_[Allison]: Lydia, what happened? Where are you?_

_[Allison]: You better tell me if he said anything._

_[Allison]: I'll be at your place after school with ice cream and chocolate and the notebook._

 

_[Scott]: Lydia._

_[Scott]: Are you okay?_

 

_[Malia]: Sorry._


	3. Fuck Away The Pain

_**WARNING: NSFW.** _

* * *

 

_**"** Its such a **shitty** thing  he did,_

_The way he said **goodbye**_

_You can take it out on  me_

_If you like,_

_**Fuck** away the  pain,_

_~~Erase~~ him from your **brain,**_

_**Take** it like  you ~~**love** ~~ me. **"**_

* * *

            Lydia knew it was right to come to him. The big, brooding wolf who was so use to being an alpha, even if he had only been one for such a short time. _Derek_ , who knew every spot on her body to roughly touch to make her completely forget about the scene she'd seen earlier. God, was she _right_ to come to him- and that was the main thought in her head as Derek slammed her up against the wall, a shot of pain kissing its way across her shoulders and down her spine, her pink painted lips parting in a gasp as his lips instantly found her neck. Derek's lifts were rough, as they always were, leaving wet kisses and harsh bites across her shoulders and neck, fingers grabbing and ripping at her clothes til they were off and scattered on the floor.

      

        But Derek Hale wasn't going to undress- no, he hardly ever undressed in these situations, just enough to get his thick cock out. And it left him with the younger female completely naked, torn remains of the clothes that once were scattered about the floor- Lydia almost felt remorse when she saw the torn cloth that once was her favorite panties discarded with her dress. But she had no time with that as their mouths connected and the silence of the loft was soon filled with strained breaths and heavy pants. Her body was on fire, a heat that was begging for him to put out- but the issue was with Derek, fires were never put out until the end of the night, and Lydia knew it was going to be a long, _long_ night.

   "Why on _earth_ do you always come _here?_ " The snarl was cold, harsh as it always was during these events- god, those _dark_ and _husky_ snarls were enough alone to get Lydia over the edge.

        "Because you're so god damn _good_." She whimpered out the reply as his hand dove between her legs, fingers skillfully pressing against her clit.

    Words were forgotten when Derek began to rub his finger over the small ball of nerves, his breath heavy as he rested his mouth near her neck. Lydia's fingers gripped tightly onto his shoulders as his free hand moved to grab the back of her thigh, claws extending and digging into sensitive flesh as he lifted her leg to wrap around his waist, drawing a scream from her that was nothing short of pleasant to the older males ears. Lydia, being the obedient girl she was in such fragile state with Derek, obediently lifting her other leg to wrap around his waist as well. A pleased growl slipped from deep in Dereks throat as he removed his fingers from her bulb, smirking dangerously at her as his eyes lit up their blue color, grabbing her by her ass and making his way to the bed, tossing her down on it.

      "Time for the real fun."

And then he was on her. Derek's fingers went to her hips, flipping her onto her stomach before his hand rose into the air, roughly coming down against her bottom with a low snarl. "On your hands and knees Lydia." He snapped, and as she was told, Lydia had held back the pained whimper, slowly lifting herself up off her front to rest on her knees, her fingers desperately clutching at the sheets as she felt the pain from his previous slap, along with the claws that had dug deep into her thigh. Deep enough for red liquid to slip down her thighs but not deep enough to do any real damage. Derek knew his limits and while he was angry with her, he knew this was a way for her to take out her emotions and him his anger, and he wasn't about to kill her over it- Derek wouldn't let himself live it down if he seriously injured her.

     Grunting a little, Derek moved his fingers down to his zipper, quickly pulling it down and shifting his cock out of his boxers, feeling the impending throb that had just meant that there was no stopping this now. Her scent had filled his senses and blurred his vision as it pulsed red. Derek knew this sensation all too well around the young Lydia Martin. While she was only seventeen, she had the body of a grown women and the maturity to match, and not to mention Derek just loved his ability to make her submit. He was all too aware that with her high school _boys_ , Lydia was in control. Miss Leader demanded control from _boys_ , but that was the thing Derek wasn't a boy, he was a _man,_ better yet he was an _animal_ , and driven by primal instinct he had to be _dominate,_ his body _demanded_ it, and Lydia, sweet, little, Lydia, gave him that dominance that he _yearned_ for in the way she wiggled her hips and whimpered out little ' _Pleases_ ' and ' _More, god Derek more!_ ' Oh yes, Derek never got enough of the submission that leaked from her and the dominance he could pour into her.

         Lydia had let out a loud noise of both pain and pleasure when Derek finally pushed his cock into her, and a satisfied groan left his lips at the feeling of her tight warmth surrounding him. Derek knew first hand just how good it felt to be balls deep in the young girl, and god, he could understand why so many guys were ready to dive head first into her. Derek would never turn her away if it meant pushing his cock into her. But, like any other time, Derek didn't take the time to live in the moment, and just began to endlessly ram into her. His hips reeled back before slapping against her ass, heightened hearing drinking up the sound of skin on skin and Lydia's delightful gasps and moans, and god those god damn _screams_ that always shoved him close to his edge.

     "Scream, bitch."

         Lydia did exactly as commanded, her lips parting as his hand slammed itself against her shoulder, causing a small whine to escape before her face connected to the bed below her, a loud scream sliding out across her lips while her hips reeled away from him instinctively, whining and whimper as the pain of his thrusts slammed harshly against her body. Derek though, he was in complete bliss, watching the way her ass jiggled with the impact of his thrusts, the way the sweat trickled down her back, her hair matting itself up and her shoulders heaving with the force of his brutal movements. Dereks hands grabbed onto her hips, digging his claws into the gentle flesh that sat there and listening to the sound of her scream that filled his loft again. _God_ he loved that sound, _so fucking much._

     When Lydia reached her first orgasm, it was loud, struggled screams slipping out of her lips as his hips rammed into hers, loud pants puffing out after as sweat kissed her forehead and a sticky sensation had grown where they connected, but Lydia didn't care- and neither did Derek. Now it was his turn to get off. So, with his claws logged in her hips, he gave a few more powerful thrust before he flipped her onto her back, smirking down at her dangerously again before he was over her, grabbing the backs of her knees and digging his claws in as he pushed them up to her chest, slamming himself into her with a low groan at her slick pussy clenching around him.

      _Fuck_ that felt good.

         Lydia couldn't deny it either, and it was shown in the loud, "DEREK!" that left her lips. Sensitive from the previous orgasm that she'd just barely came down from, Lydia was suddenly very, very aware of everything around her. She was aware of the fogged up glass, the feeling of his hips connecting to her body, the sound of the puffs of air that slipped from Derek's lips. She was aware of the sweat that oh so slowly slipped down the back of her neck and definitely slipped into the sheets, and she was definitely aware of the way Derek let out a loud groan before shoving himself as deeply into her as he could, before just as quickly pulling out and spilling his seed over her stomach.

      For a second, the two of them stayed there, Derek sat back on his knees with his shoulders rising and falling with every heavy breath, and Lydia laid there, a bleeding, sweaty, mess with her chest mirroring the movements of his shoulders. Without a word, Derek stood up, and left the room, sliding his body up the twisting stairway before he slid his way into the bathroom, not bothering to lock the door. He had a hunch that Lydia would be joining him shortly to get rid of the cum he'd just splattered all over her stomach. He didn't care though, because that was their dynamic.

      In the bathroom, Derek slipped out of his jeans and his boxers, than his shirt and discarded them into a clothes bin, before he had moved to adjust the water and turn the shower head on, stepping into the scalding hot water and closing his eyes as it washed over him, rinsing the sweat from his body and replacing it with hot beads of water. He stepped out of it and dipped his head in, leaving it like that, leaving the water splashing against his head and dripping of strands of almost black hair. His eyes remained closed but he tilted his head up as he heard the sound of the door opening, and only opened them when he saw Lydia coming closer, moving his body back so she could be the one under neath the water for a second.

     And thats all it was, a second to rinse the cum off her stomach before she was moving behind him, the wounds on her thighs, hips, and knees stinging too much to let water continue to slam against the open, bleeding wounds. It wasn't long before the bottom of the tub was painted pink and instantly,  Derek felt the usual remorse he always did after seeing the pain she was in. Lydia's face was contorted with obvious discomfort and pain, her hand clutching her hip as she braced herself on the mirror of a sliding door that was in the tub. Derek frowned a little, pushing her hands away and gently holding her hips, pulling her into his chest and cringing as he began to take the pain away from her, his veins painting black as the unbearable sting slammed into his body, almost taking his breath as he let out a low grunt. Lydia had been accustomed to the pain of his marks for awhile now- Derek still couldn't get use to it.

      "I'm sorry." Derek whispered into her ear, deciding that here and now, would be their moment. Derek took as much of the pain as he could handle, cringing but trying to keep his face and eyes calm to soothe her. Hell, the older male went as far as to use Erica's shampoo and conditioner, cleaning the girls hair for her, and she had done the same to him with his own shampoo and conditioner. Derek had left her in the bathroom after though, wrapped up in a towel, and had fetched them some clothes. He got a pair of underwear from Erica, deciding the girl definitely wasn't going to care, or even notice among the many pairs in the drawer, and a big shirt belonging to himself. He himself simply put on boxers and a pair of red pajama pants before returning.

      Silently, Lydia had slipped the panties on, careful of her injuries before she pulled the shirt on, and simply let Derek pick her up as gently as he could and trail down the steps. He had set her on the kitchen counter and got out the first aid kit he had kept on hand since the accident where he had become.. Human. He got out some wraps and quickly wrapped her up. The entire time the two did everything in silence, only speaking through sympathetic looks. It hadn't been til Derek was finishing up her left leg that he felt a sudden unbearing sadness hit him, and he was confused before he realized he was just sensing the emotions that Lydia had. _Sadness, anger, betrayal, confusion, despair._ But.. But what had caused her to feel this way?

       Derek pondered over situations in his head, it couldn't be because of him right? They'd done this before, she never.. She never _felt so sad_ afterwards. Was she upset about her clothes? He hadn't meant to rip them. In fact, he'd definitely pay for her to buy some new ones. Derek added the last bit of medical tape and lifted his green eyes, only to freeze when he saw the frown on the gorgeous girls lips, and the tears welling up in her own green eyes. " _Lydia.._ " Her name came sadly from his own lips, a question as to what exactly was wrong for her to feel the way she did.

    "I was going to confess to Stiles today." Okay, that was surprising. Derek had sensed their mutual feelings of such intense _love_ ever since Lydia and Stiles became friends- so he wasn't surprised she had feelings, rather that she was admitting them. "And I found him making out with Malia.." _Oh._ So that was why she was there.

     "Really? I..I'm sorry.." Derek wasn't sure what else to say, usually she just vented to him, she didn't expect him to reply- and this time was no different.

          "I just, I thought for sure the feeling was mutual Derek. I thought he loved me just as much as I love him, but but I see..I see now that I'm _too late._ I've come on the scene just a little too _delayed._ I lost him, Derek. I lost him to a girl he _barely knows._ No offense, I know she's your cousin and all, and I know that.. I know that it might not mean anything but.. He's moved on, and I don't know if I can handle that, I don't know if I can handle seeing them holding hands, or being together in public, or kissing, or cuddling. I can't handle Stiles not loving me."

        Derek desperately wanted to tell her that he still loved her- but that was Stiles' action not his own, he had no place admitting another persons feelings to the one they were directed at. Especially something as strong as _love._

        So instead, Derek scooped her up in his arms, and let her break into his chest, the pieces of her heart dripping onto his chest and wetting it again as he sighed into her shoulder, carrying her over to the bed. Derek laid her down and tucked her in, smoothing her hair back and gently kissing her forehead, before he had climbed in behind her, draping his arm around her torso and gently kissing her shoulder. "Don't worry, Lydia. Everythings gonna work out just fine." He whispered softly against her skin- that was the only thing he could think to do as he held her in his strong embraced, and tried his hardest not to feel bad for not being able to take this kind of pain from her as her shoulders shook with soft sobs, her tiny body curling into the smallest ball of human he'd ever witnessed, but he curved his body to meet the shape of hers, and slowly listened to her heart as it slowed, and the sobs weakened, until the only sound from her was soft pained breaths while she slept.


	4. Love's A Terrible Thing

" _You caused my heart to **bleed** and,_

_You still owe  me a **reason** ,_

_Cause I can't figure out **why**._

_**Why** am  I alone and **freezin** ,_

_While you're in the **bed** that ~~he's~~ in,_

_and I'm just left alone to **cry**._ "

* * *

       The next morning, the group were gathered in the parking lot. Allison had her arms crossed, eyes cold and hard as she stared at Stiles, who honestly hadn't slept the night before. His face was pale, hair all over the place, eyes tired and panicked as he stared at the entrance of the parking lot, waiting to see Lydia's car pulling up. He hadn't slept. Of course he hadn't slept. Stiles spent the entire night, trying to call Lydia. He'd called her old friends. He'd called her house about a billion times, and each time her mom would tell him, 'No Stiles, Lydia hasn't come home.' Until finally she finally just stopped answering. The entire night Stiles paced about his room, trying to think about where Lydia freakin' Martin could've went off to, what had happened for her to block them out like that. He was so confused, so lost, so  _hurt._ But here he was, tapping his foot and scratching at his neck while Allison's eyes shot arrows into the back of his neck, and Scott simply watched him with curious eyes.Knowing eyes.

      "Maybe we should go get Derek and put out a search party or something?" Scott finally suggested, beginning towards his bike, Kira skittishly following. Allison, silently, departed to her own car, getting in and whizzing off. "Stiles," Scott called, frowning as he stood next to his bike, between his ride and Stiles' Jeep, while Stiles rested his hand on the door of the jeep. "We're gonna find her." He told him reassuringly, pulling his helmet on before he had started up the bike and sped off.

     Stiles lingered at his jeep for a second, sighing softly as he climbed up into it, starting up the jeep and closing his eyes for a second. He didn't even glance at Malia as he started the blue vehicle and drove off towards Derek's loft. The ride was silent, but Malia was aware of the thumping of Stiles' heart.

* * *

       Derek was up, he'd been cleaning up scattered ripped clothes and  had been sat back on the couch- reading while he waited for Lydia to wake up. Today, they'd return to their usual demeanor, and they'd act like Lydia hadn't cried herself to sleep in his arms the night before. He figured since he had worn her out quite a bit, and since he had watched her cry so late, that she wouldn't want to attend school, and so he let her sleep in. Derek may be a seemingly cold man, but he tended to try to make people as comfortable as he could when he felt any form of care for them.

        So he let her sleep, and he planned on letting her rest until the pack stormed into the loft, first it was Allison, who was filled with relief when she saw Lydia's mused up hair sticking out of the sheets. He had quickly stood up though, as if an attempt to protect the group from the reality they weren't aware of, but it was too late as Scott bundled in, freezing and staring at Derek with shocked knowing eyes, Kira at his side, and Malia, who held the same knowing look trailed in and finally- _Stiles._

              Stiles was frantic, pushing people out of the way to see Derek better. "Derek, Derek for fucks sake you need to-" and then he saw it. He saw the dress that had been washed and folded up on the desk, he saw her phone sat on it, he saw the bed...The bed, where familiar strawberry blonde locks sat ruffled. He felt his chest tighten. She hadn't slept with Derek, there was no way, odds are Derek found her last night and maybe she'd gotten a little dirty, maybe she went into a fugue state, so Derek took her home and cleaned her up and put her to bed. That had to be it, right? Yeah, of course. But somewhere deep down in his heart, or in the depths of his subconscious, Stiles knew that was wrong.   He knew that Derek had definitely given her a night that Stiles could never give her.

      And thats when the group heard Lydia stirring. She sat up a little, rubbing at her eyes a bit while she held the sheets to her chest. When she finally opened her eyes, she saw Derek standing there, exchanging glances with Scott, and she saw Allison looking revived, and then she disregarded everyone else- her eyes landed on Stiles.  The two stared at each other, whiskey eyes mixing with emerald stars. His lips were opened, barely parted to let a small breath slide past, and his eyes held a pain Lydia knew too well, the same pain she felt yesterday walking in on his make out session with Malia. The memory of the blonde girls pleased breaths, her heavy pants and soft moans, had hardened her previously melting heart, and the only pain mirroring back at him was the left overs lingering from the previous day.

   "Uhm, why don't we let Lydia get dressed?" Kira suggested, and followed Derek out of the room.

      Lydia had got up, dressing herself and ignoring the pain in her hips and thighs from the claws previously pressed into her. She was thankful for Derek washing her clothes. Sighing softly, Lydia's eyes went back as the group returned, making her way over to stand next Allison, who flung an arm around her and pressed her into a hug, causing the shorter of the two to let out a small laugh. "I'm fine, Allison." She assured her friend, before Allison simply nodded and released her.

 

      "Stiles, can you drive me home?"

    "Huh? Oh, yeah of course, come on."

      And Stiles did as he always did, placing a hand upon the small of her back and leading her out. But it was different this time, Lydia felt no jolt of warmth, she didn't catch the look of happiness to get his hand on her even in the slightest in his eye, there was no emotion exchanged between them and Lydia felt her chest tighten, her stomach twisting as she bit her lip a little and climbed into the jeep. The ride was silent, but Lydia could hear Stiles drumming his fingers against the steering wheel- definitely out of irritation. Yet, Lydia couldn't find it in her to ask if he was okay, because she knew it was because of her that he wasn't but the thing was, Lydia wasn't okay either, and she wasn't okay because of him. All because of him. she hated this, she hated that she wasn't okay, she hated that he had such an ability to bring her crashing to the ground with a look.

       She hated him. _No, no she didn't, but she wished she did._

          Stiles parked the jeep, and he sighed, taking in a sharp voice. "What...What happened yesterday, Lydia?" He asked softly, looking down at her from his spot in his seat. He mauled over the ideas in his mind. What on earth had pushed Lydia to go fuck Derek? What was it, that pushed her to run from everyone. What, what was _so_ fucking bad?

     Lydia stared at him as if he had thirty heads, as if he should know what had driven her there. "Stiles, I was going to go.." _Confess to you._ "I was coming to talk to you and I just saw something." She said slowly deciding she wasn't going to tell him. She couldn't, she couldn't tell him that she loved him. It was something Lydia refused to let herself do after seeing how he was with Malia. Obviously he had moved on from her and she wasn't in the slightest mood to confess unmutual feelings.

       "What on earth was so bad that it drove you to _fuck Derek fucking Hale?!_ " Stiles snapped back, but the look that washed across her face had him instantly regretting what he had asked.

       "Why do _you_ care?!" Lydia shrieked back, feeling a pain snap into her chest as she stared at the gaping face of the boy she knew she loved. " _WHY!?_ Does it matter who I chose to fuck!? No! I don't understand why you keep acting like you have some damn say in my life, like I need to get your damn approval!" She yelled, her fingers grabbing the handle of the door, pushing it open and stepping out.

      Stiles felt rage slam into him as his eyes narrowed. 'I care because I care about _you_ Lydia! You should know that by now! Why do _you_ act like its better to go fuck some stupid dick head instead of talking to the guy whose been in love with you since _THIRD FUCKING GRADE?!"_ Stiles wasn't sure anymore that this was them. Wasn't sure if their words were chosen by themselves or if it was chosen by some demon lurking inside them, some kind of narrirator that was out to get them, but each word that slipped past his lips, Stiles wished he could take back, especially when the last couple slipped. "Why do you insist on being some kind of _slut_?!" Oh my _god._

        Hearing his words, Lydia felt the air leave her lungs as she felt tears burst into her eyes. She stared at him, eyes wide, unblinking as the tears swelled into her vision. Her pink lips parted and she tried to find the words to say, but she couldn't even think about what she wanted to, how she wanted to tell him how much it hurt to have the guy you love call you a slut. "Its great to know what you think about me, Stiles." She whispered back, blinking her tears as she tried not to let them slip down her cheeks, but she failed, and slammed the jeep door. "Know that I fucking hate you too." She tried to yell it, but it came out as a broken sob, before swinging her body around, one hand raising to her mouth as she pushed herself inside. Lydia ran up to her room, throwing her bag down, kicking off her shoes and falling onto the bed. She curled herself there, feeling soft sobs slamming into her body. She closed her eyes tightly, feeling her chest tighten to the point she thought she was going to burst. 

    Meanwhile Stiles stared wide eyed at her as she spoke. _I don't think of you like that._ _I love you. You are everything good in this world._ He wanted, desperately, to tell her the things he thought but he couldn't as those words slipped by her lips before she ran off. Lydia hated him. Lydia fucking hated him. Great, Stiles was in love with a girl who hated his guts, who he'd just turned on himself. Pain and anger slammed into him and he let out a slow breath as tears pressed their way into his eyes.  He started up the jeep again, slamming his foot down against the gas pedal and turning up the volume instantly. He closed his eyes for a second, hoping that when he opened them it would be better, but when Stiles opened them, he saw nothing but blurry lights and blurred shapes, Stiles couldn't see anything and the only thing he could hear was the sound of A Drop In The Ocean playing, but even that sounded distant, far away, sounded almost muffled.

        Stiles had just broken himself and his life.

 

 

       He wished he could die at that moment.


	5. A Drop In The Ocean

_"A **drop** in the  ocean,_

_A change in the **weather** ,_

_I was ~~prayin~~ that **you** and  me_

_~~might~~ end up **together** ,_

_its like wishing for **rain**_

_as I stand in the **desert**_

_but I'm ~~holding~~ you **closer** than  most,_

_cause you are my **heaven**._

_I don't want to **waste** the weekend_

_If you ~~don't~~ **love ** me than **~~pretend~~**."_

* * *

 

   Stiles couldn't see, and he couldn't care less right now. Anger and pain drummed through his entire being, feeling his regret growing intensely the further he got away from her house, fingers drumming nervously against the steering wheel, desperately trying to gain control of his racing thoughts as she felt his throat getting tighter and tighter remembering the words they'd just shared. Stiles loved that god damn woman, and here she was infuriating him, making him so mad at her yet making him hate himself more than he hated anyone right now. Peter fucking Hale himself seemed like a better person that him- at least, right now that was. His mind continued to pay attention to what exactly had been said- how he had said that she was a slut. How _dare_ he call her that? Lydia Martin was no slut. Lydia Martin had given up on teenage boys, she hadn't even seen her check out someone in so long- at least that was until Parrish came into the picture and he would occasionally catch the shared glances of bedroom eyes but for the most part, Lydia had been inactive with the male species. Maybe that was why he thought it was perfectly fine for him to hop off to hop into another girls world as the strong male that would protect her. _Malia._ Stiles felt so fucking bad about that too. He didn't even know what Lydia wanted from him but it must've been important for how she had searched for him on day one- right?

    

     Shaky breaths slid past his lips as they hung open. Panic filled him and he could feel the attack sliding into his body. No, no not now. He couldn't have an attack while he was driving. But he couldn't pull over either, his body refused to let him pull over. Nothing, absolutely nothing could make him pull over. He frantically tried to clear his vision when he saw the blurred lights through his misty gaze. His chest tightened until he couldn't breath properly, labored breaths coming out in pants while his fingers gripped at the steering wheel until his knuckles were painted white. "Not now." He panted, shaking his head for a second as he tried to refocus his eyes on the road. He couldn't. He couldn't do it.

     

      And that was when it happened. A loud horn sounded and Stiles couldn't get the brakes to work as he frantically tried to see where it was coming from, and when his eyes finally opened, his eyes were met with another car. Tires screeched against the pavement, the scent of smoke and burning rubber filling his lungs as his panic dulled. He ripped at the wheel, trying to turn away from the truck whizzing towards him. He just barely got it only to smash into a light pole. The hit had sent waves through Stiles, jerking his body from the seat, sending him flying out through the window. He felt the glass at first, and everything stung until he was laying on the ground, and a sickening crack sounded. Pain radiated his body but the young brunette couldn't find it in him to actually care. He laid there, eyes wide and blurry as his head felt sticky. His hair felt wet, and the surroundings blurred. He could faintly see people stopping, jumping out of cars and he could faintly hear a woman screaming, a child crying and some man yelling for someone to call 911.

       He could also ironically enough hear the sound of the radio blaring over everything else, and his mind whirled around that as the song pounded, and it repeated over and over in his head, the lyrics sinking in as he began to see small flashes of his life.

 

     _Stiles had to be three years old- his very first memory. He was running around his house in his pajamas, brown hair messy and obviously mused from rolling around in bed. His whiskey eyes were darker, but more alive than Stiles had ever seen them. He could hear the sound of his mothers voice, giggling from the living room, and he suddenly knew what was happening._

_Stiles shot through the house, small squeals and giggles leaving him as he called out for his mother. "Daddy's gonna get me mommy!" He had called out, looking behind him to see his father- in his own pajamas, chasing after him._

_"Thats right, I'm gonna getcha!" His dad had laughed, and it was the happiest Stiles had seen him in a long time too._

_Stiles had let out a squeal, jumping into his mothers arms, who was sat on the couch watching one of her dramas. Her arms coiled around him, and her lips had begun to press kisses all over his face, while the boy squealed and squirmed, making little 'Mommy please!' pleas about how nasty it was to have 'girl cooties'._

 

_And suddenly he was standing in the playground, his young self was on the swing seat, watching some dark haired kid make a sandcastle.  And then his younger self- his younger self, was running up, running away from some stupid older kids only to trip over the sandbox- and holy fuck was he a clumsy kid because his face went right into the sandcastle, earning a chorus of 'Oh man!'s from the boy building it.. And Stiles recognized this scene well- this was how he and Scott became friends. "I'm sorry- I'll help you rebuild it if you want." Stiles had quipped, earning a small grin from the shyer boy, nodding his head as they began to rebuild what Stiles' face had just ruined._

_"I'm Scott McCall, by the way."_

_"Stiles Stilinski.. Do you wanna be friends?"_

**_A drop in the ocean, a change in the weather_ **

_Whirling around him, Stiles suddenly stood in his third grade classroom, and he could see some kids laughing, and others just watching the corner, where he heard soft crying from. He also saw himself, slowly walking over towards the corner with his resees  bar in his hand, held behind his back as his eyes landed on a little strawberry blonde girl who was sat in the corner, her knees to her chest with her face buried between them. "Do you.. Do you want a Reeses cup?" His voice was soft, quiet with a sense of shyness behind it as he held out one of the cups with a small smile placed upon his lips as his whiskey eyes melted on her. Stiles remembered this moment perfectly._

_**I was prayin that you and me might end up together.**_

_The young redhead lifted her head from her knees, staring at the cup before staring at him. Her eyes had softened and Stiles marveled in the way they shimmered at him. "Thank you.."  She had whispered to him, smiling softly causing the sides of her eyes to crinkle cutely. Stiles swore at that moment he was in love- and had gone home to tell his mother about this gorgeous girl with pretty strawberry blonde hair and a sad smile that lit up his world._

_**Its like wishin for rain as I stand in the desert**_

_Memories swirled around him- the night in the woods with Scott when he got bit, the time that he thought he was dying and Scott embraced him, all their long night conversations, and the way Stiles could tell him anything. And then there was her. That damn girl. He saw the day he saw her walk by, she ignored him. Then when she sat with them. Memories flicked by, showing how she showed up in his room, crying and he had told her that he'd go out of his mind if she died, he saw the prom, he saw the way she looked in that hospital room, he saw their first embraces, he saw their kiss, and fireworks exploded in his chest as his memories got fuzzier and fuzzier, but he still couldn't help but feel completely content with the green eyes he watched himself stare into._

_**But I'm holding you closer than most**_

_"I hate you so fucking much."_

**_Cause you are my heaven._ **

_**And then there was nothing.**_

* * *

 

 

      

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry its so short, but it was just for this.


	6. I'm Never Coming Back

_"Call all **your** friends,_

_Tell **them** I'm ~~never~~ ,_

_Coming,_

**_Back._ **

_This is the **end** ,_

_Pretend that **you** want it,_

_Don't react._

_The damage is ~~**done**~~ ,_

_The **police** are ~~coming~~ ,_

_Too **slow** now._

_I would have **died**_

_I would have **loved you**,_

_**All** my ~~life~~."_

* * *

              Lydia felt wrong. This felt wrong, the familiar feeling of an itch that started in her stomach and crawled up her throat like fire that burned at the skin, ate at the flesh til her eyes watered and she had no choice but to let go and scream, scream a sound so pitiful that it sounded out like a war cry, or a bell that signaled all the warriors had fallen, that the fight was lost and it was so pitiful if Lydia had heard it from someone else she would've burst into tears instead of covering her ears. The scream rippled past her lips as the air slammed into her back like death itself had hit her- and it did. It was like the creature searching for the soul that was in the air floating had knocked into her on its way there, and she found herself stumbling forward. She felt sick. The tears on her cheeks trippled as she felt an unfamiliar emptiness in her heart, like someone had been ripped away from her.

      

          The strawberry blonde searched frantically for her phone. _Stiles._ Something was wrong with Stiles and Lydia couldn't help but feel a sick ache for him, on an emotional level like their tether had been cut in half, the rope connecting them burned and sizzling towards her, the other half long forgotten and Lydia felt wrong about it. So, she dialed his number with shaky fingers, staring at her phone through blurry eyes. Ring, after ring, after ring went in before finally she got to his voicemail.

       _'Hey this is Stiles, odds are I'm busy so if you're important leave a message if not why are you calling me even?'_

 

   

   Lydia felt sick. She dialed another number, this time the Sheriffs. She waited for John to answer, body trembling as she tried to hold herself together. Voices screamed at her, screamed that he was in danger, that he was fading fast and if she didn't get to him, or if someone didn't get to him quick, he was going to be gone. He was gone and Lydia wouldn't ever get him back, and maybe thats why the relief of Johns voice on the other end slammed into her like a truck.

     "Mr. Stilinski! Thank god- you, you need to call Stiles. I think he was on his way there but- I can't get ahold of him, Sheriff-"

   

        "Lydia, I don't have time to talk. We just got a call about an accident. Report claims this kid was speeding on the wrong side of the rode, swerved from a truck, and got thrown out of his jeep. I'll find Stiles after."

 

     And then he was gone, and Lydia felt so sick, she felt the vomit coming up into her throat. The words _This kid_. _Speeding. Thrown out of his_ **Jeep.** They rung in her ears like bells, but then she heard him. She heard Stiles, a voice low and soft, coming from no where and everywhere all at once, she heard the soft whisper of her name from behind her, and she turned, slowly lowering her phone from her ear as she looked up at the boy who stood behind her. His whiskey eyes were faded, only slightly but still enough to get her drunk on them, and his lips were pulled into the smallest of smiles Lydia had ever seen on him, sadness radiated off him as he slowly reached out for her. Lydia obeyed her instincts, instantly going into his chest. Her hands rested at his sides as one of his arms wrapped around her back, the other holding her head to his chest as he listened to the sobs that raked her body. 

     "I'm sorry."

 

      His words echoed through the room as they stayed there like that for what felt like hours. Stiles held her there, stroking her hair, his only attempt at soothing her because he knew more than she did- that his life was fading. After all, his soul had slipped free and sought her out, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. And Lydia, Stiles in this new state of awareness, could sense her despair, her refusal to believe her instincts no matter how real they were, so he made no move to assure her that she was dreaming- that lie was something he wouldn't put her through when she woke up to her mother standing in the doorway, with sad eyes, or when she woke to Scott crying in Melissa's arms, or when she woke to his dad, standing at her door with sad eyes, tear stained cheeks and a purpose to apologize for not being faster. He didn't want her to suffer anymore with realization when she woke screaming, when she woke thrashing about, feeling his death like he had felt it. He didn't want to put her through the pain he had. He also didn't want her knowing it completely right now. Over night she would accept it but here in his arms Lydia could believe she still had him. She said nothing- did nothing but shake pitifully in his hold.

 

     Lydia found herself being lead to her bed, where Stiles slowly laid down and pulled her down with him. Lydia ended up on top of him, arms wrapped around his body as she pressed her face into his chest, sobs slipping past her lips as she took in his scent, the one she knew she'd only get now unless she was in his room, surrounded by his things and his clothes while he rotted in a coffin, the one she knew she'd never familiarize herself with again. And it was there, pressed into this ghosts arms, that she had fallen asleep.

 

* * *

 

       Like Stiles had expected, Lydia awoke that morning, 10:06 AM, screaming and thrashing, her body jerking up off the bed as another, more pained scream of her banshee level burst free, her head falling back so her face faced the heavens, screaming in a way that begged the god she didn't believe in anymore to give him back, to give back the boy she loved. Her eyes were squeezed shut, wishing to return to the dream of the night before where she was holding Stiles in her arms. It had felt so real, so real that his scent still swarmed her room and suffocated her, so real that his touch still drowned her with her every pained movements, and the scream, the scream she'd been letting out for a solid minute, didn't falter, didn't break, didn't so much as crack. It carried on strong, cracking glasses and smashing lightbulbs, glass showering down around her like she was some kind of goddess that controlled it all, until she was in someones arms.

  

      Stiles'. Or thats what she wanted it to be, but instead, she was in her mothers arms, who held her into her chest and shooshed her gently. Her mother murmured soft nothings through her own broken voice. Seeing her daughter like this brought her to a new level of low. Brought her so low that Natalie, who was suppose to keep herself strong for her daughter, began crying for a boy she knew loved her daughter, who deserved her daughter, who her daughter definitely deserved no matter how much she fought it- and she worried for her daughters future well being. Because if a boy like that didn't exist in her life, then what was Lydia going to turn into? Lydia, on the other hand, screamed again, but it wasn't a banshee one, wasn't the conclusion of death that hung in the air, it was a pained, heart broken scream of a girl who'd just witnessed her lovers death, was the scream of someone losing their everything in one glance, someone who'd been so close to everything, falling to nothing.

 

      "He's not dead- he can't be dead." Her broken sobs slammed against her and she shook her head, pushing against her mothers arms while they held her firmly in place, by now crying and whispering that everything was okay- everything happens for a reason- calm down Lydia please.

 

      But Lydia couldn't calm down. Lydia couldn't control herself. She pushed out of her mothers arms and had stumbled down the stairs, day old clothes wrinkled against her skin as she pushed through the door and began to run. She ran until she couldn't anymore, her feet hurt, and she could feel blood seeping from her at the cuts that inevitably sat there. She collapsed, only to look up to see the hospital. He was here. Stiles was here. Lydia felt breath leave her once before she was crawling her way off the ground and began to stumble into the hospital. Patients and doctors and visitors looked up confused, watched her as the tear stained, broken teen girl, dirty and bloody pushed through people, towards one of the rooms, where she heard the silencing flat line of a heart monitor. People screamed at her that she couldn't go in there without permission, but Lydia ignored them until she was standing in the doorway.

    

        "Thats it, I'm calling it." A doctor sighed, stepping back and pulling the sheet over pale, mole dotted skin and brown hair. "Time of death: 10:41 AM."

 

And thats what broke her. Lydia fell to her knees in the door way, screaming out at the pain rushing her like rivers. She shook as her hands planted themselves firmly on the cold floor before her. Her head was tilted back, hair falling over her shoulders as the scream resonated through the hospital. " ** _Stiles!_** " The scream echoed, bouncing the walls and signifying that he had finally died, that he'd been given up on, that no one cared enough to keep trying to bring them back. But Lydia knew better than that- they'd been trying for a long time to keep him alive but Stiles had been long gone. There had been no saving him, and Lydia felt regret and sorrow. She felt hatred for herself and an emptiness that no one but Stiles could solve, her body shaking and shivering as she stared at the ceiling before her eyes were falling back to the body and the doctors before her, all staring at her with sorrow in their eyes.

 

     And then, Melissa was there, and she was pulling Lydia off the ground and into her arms, the mother holding her in her chest as she lead her away and to an empty room. Thats where she collapsed on the floor with the young girl and just held her as Lydia sobbed and shook, held onto her like an anchor. Like Melissa was the only thing keeping her alive currently. "I loved him, I loved him and he never got to know it Melissa." She croaked the words, leaning back and covering her face. "I loved him and I never had him as my own.I  loved him, Melissa, how will- how will I ever.."

 

     Melissa's hands reached out, pulling the small girl into her arms and breathing a small, shaky sigh. She herself was suffering the loss of a Son that wasn't biologically hers but _blood_ of the covenant is _thicker than_ the _water_ of the womb. "Sometimes, you meet people in your life Lydia, that spark the biggest fire in you and motivate you beyond your wildest dreams, but they aren't who you get to spend ther est of forever with- its just the way it is." She whispered, voice cracking in the slightest. "And I know that hurts, and I know thats unfair, and I know you don't want to believe it but thats the bitter truth. As for him not knowing- Lydia that boy knew you worshiped him deep down. Thats why he worshiped you to the very last breath."

    Deep down, Lydia knew that was true, and she knew that last night, Stiles' spirit had found her, had held her. Lydia knew he was the one to hum her to sleep, the only reason she slept at all with that sick feeling in her stomach.

 

       "Scotts on his way." Melissa whispered quietly, looking down at her. "Right now you should go see his dad."

 

And so thats what Lydia did. She climbed off the floor, and everything felt still as she saw John, standing there with a hand clamped over his mouth. The man had lost everything. Lydia felt bad for him, and so, a shaky breath, she had called out to him. Sheriff turned and stared at her with sad, sorry eyes. And thats when it happened, Lydia threw herself into his arms and held onto him, sobbing endlessly into his chest while he whispered soft reassurance that Stiles had loved her greatly.

 

 

Lydia knew he was right.

 

 


	7. Haunt Me.

_"Oh **you** ~~can't~~ hear  me cry_

_See my **dreams** all ~~**die**~~_

_from where **you're** standing_

_on **your** ~~own~~_

_It's so quiet here_

_And I feel so ~~cold~~_

_This **house** no longer  feels like ~~home~~._

_When **you** told  me **you'd** ~~leave~~_

_I felt like  I couldn't ~~**breathe**~~_

_My **aching** body _

_Fell to the ~~floor~~."_

* * *

 

Weeks upon weeks were spent with Lydia trapped sadly inside her room. She didn't move, didn't budge. Not since his funeral. Not since she saw his casket and she saw him put into the ground, not since she finally lost him. Hadn't spoken since she'd spoken in his memory, standing above his lifeless body. She remembered it well. The pain still resonated deep inside her soul, just like how their last words did. So hateful, so regretted. Lydia could've stopped this from happening. If she had just sucked up her pride. If she had just apologized. Kept her mouth shut. If she hadn't gone to him in the first place. Lydia couldn't even bring herself to leave her bed. John had stopped by, but he wasn't the same man he was when Stiles was alive. He was broken, tired, and his age was appearing more and more on his features with each passing day, he was drinking again, and Lydia knew that if it kept up he was going to lose his job. Her mother talked about it on the phone, and Lydia could occasionally hear them.

 

    Melissa stopped by sometimes. She would come to the door but she didn't have much to say most of the time. Lydia never let her in and she never tried to get in, and Lydia knew it was because Melissa knew deep down no matter what they said, Lydia wouldn't get over this. After all, everyone she loved, had left her in one way or another. And Lydia thought that in all honesty, Scott was the saddest of them all. He couldn't look at her, or at anyone. He came to the house sometimes, but he would never come through her door. Allison would whisper to him outside the door that he should go in there, go in there and comfort her because he knew him best, and Lydia was all too familiar with his response- "I can't connect with her, Allison. Stiles was my brother but she- she loved him." And everyone knew how they had last interacted. They knew of the name calling, the screaming and shouting, knew how she told him she hated him. It killed her, and she knew it killed them too.

 

                _"Stiles was my best friend."_

   Lydia was curled in the middle of her bed, blankets wrapped around her with shallow puffs of air sliding off her lips. Her fingers were tightly gripping her blanket while she stared blankly at the wall across from her, the speech flashing in her mind.

                _"And he was honestly the best guy I'd ever met.."_

 

     She couldn't believe he was gone, but she hadn't seen him since the night he died. 

          

               _"He meant so much to me, even if I didn't act like it, I loved him. Deeply.. And it makes me so happy, and makes me feel so honored to have had his love for so long in re..."_

 

     A knock sounded at the door and Lydia was pulled from her thoughts, sighing deeply as she lifted her eyes to glance in the general direction of the door. Her mom was out so it had to be one of the pack. "Who is it?" She rasped out, cringing at the sound of her own voice. Throat dry as the desert and voice as cracked as the sidewalk Lydia knew she was soon likely going to suffer from either dehydration or starvation, three days ago her stomach had finally given in to the fact that there was no food going into it, and had stopped its bawling for something, anything, to fill its vicinity.

 

    "Its Scott.. Can ... Can I come in?"

 

Scott hadn't looked at her since the day Stiles died. Lydia wasn't even sure why he was here. Surely he blamed her, surely it was her fault, and she knew Scott and everyone else blamed her too. Because she pushed him, she yelled at him and she told him that she hated him, and so he was distracted- and wound up in the ditch. Hell, she wasn't even sure that she could face Scott herself, but she'd granted him entrance anyway. "Come in.."

 

   Scott pushed open the door and trailed in. He held a bag in his hand and his eyes were puffy and red, signaling that he'd been crying, and he honest to god didn't want her to know that. He was her alpha and he was suppose to be her strength when she was weak, but truth be told, everyone who knew Stiles was weak right now. Weak with loss.

 

   Lydia sat up and had sighed softly as she looked up at him. Her nose was red, eyes too, puffy and her cheeks were stained with her seemingly endless tears. Seeing him alone almost made her cry, but she just forced a slight smile, that in the end failed and fell to a cringe. "Whats in the bag..?"

 

    Scott stared for a second. She was wrecked. He frowned and slowly moved over to her, sat at the edge of the bed and slowly pulled a box from the bag. He handed it to her then, chewing at his lip for a second. "It's some of S..His things.. He would've wanted you to have them.."

 

  Staring at him, Lydia slowly reached to take the box. She sat up a bit more and slid it open, feeling tears press into her eyes as she saw the keys to the jeep placed among some jewelry. Along with a key to his bedroom. Stiles' favorite necklace, a little cross, sat among it and a ring he always kept on his desk- his mothers grad ring. She blinked back her tears, or tried to. "Scott.. I... Thank you.."

 

  And then she was breaking, body curling over the box as her hands lifted to her face, sobbing into the palms of her hands for the fifth time that day, but this time was different, because Scott was moving the box and pulling her into his chest, wrapping her up in a comforting hug while he tried his best to keep it together.

In the end, they both cried together before he had talked Lydia into visiting his room.

 

* * *

 

 

     Lydia had put on his necklace, put on the ring and took the keys. She found herself in his room, sitting on his bed and staring blankly at his board, at his walls, at the red string that covered them, at the ball of it on his desk. She stared absently, remembering how many times she stood in this room, how many times she stood there in his arms. The time she'd come crying to him about Jackson. The time she'd laid on her belly, staring up at him and telling him about how she was wrong, how he'd dropped to his knees in front of her and told her he'd go back to the school if she wanted him to. How she'd shown up, frantic that he was missing, touched the strings and-...She'd heard him through the string..

 

    That was it. That was her way of hearing him again! Lydia jumped off the bed, fumbling to grab the scissors. She needed to recreate it. Recreate how it was done, and it took hours but Lydia had stabbed the scissors into his bed and tied red strings from the wall to the scissor handles. Then, she stepped back and admired her work. It looked exactly like it did when he went missing with the Nogitsune. Looked exactly like it and it brought a sense of calmness to her, seeing the hectic state. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and placed her finger on the string, leaned close and pulled on it.

 

                      _"I'm still here."_

 

  His voice vibrated from the string, and Lydia had to hold back a sob as she heard it, because she knew it wasn't just her. It wasn't her going insane. She was a _banshee_ this, hearing the dead, thats what she did. That was her role.

 

        She took a deep breath, and plucked the string again. This time, she could almost feel his breath on her ear, could almost feel his hands ghosting over her sides.

 

          _"And its not your fault, Lyds.. Go..Go to the jeep.."_

 

      Lydia let out a sob at that. His voice, was clear as day and it was so obvious, the words not cracking, so strong and she knew it was him, knew his voice and his presence surrounded her thickly. So she was pushing her way out of his room and out of his house, climbing only into her car and then driving off to the jeep.

 

         

* * *

   

 

     Once there, Lydia was unlocking the newly repaired vehicle, slid into the drivers seat and started the jeep, and with a few tries it roared to life. She stared  at the steering wheel, fingers gripping it til her knuckles turned white, and the radio roared to life with it. The lyrics of 'Undone' slammed into  her ear drums but she barely heard it.

_I don't think I can drive it home tonight._

  Lydia caved. This didn't feel right. Sitting here didn't feel right. Being the driver of Roscoe didn't feel right. Not unless she was driving it to Stiles.

_I don't think I want to be alone tonight._

      Driv...Driving it to Stiles..

_Come undone,_

    She'd drive to Stiles. It only seemed right.

_Surrender is stronger,_

   Lydia quickly put the jeep in drive, slamming the on the gas and zipped out of the garage parking lot. Tires screeched as she zipped around a turn, speed hand ticking close to 190 KM as she pulled out around cars, tears sliding down her cheeks as she felt pain pulse in her chest. But, but then someones hand curled over her own on the steering wheel, and her eyes turned to see a frantic looking Stiles in the passengers seat, tugging the wheel towards the side.  _"Don't you dare try that, Lydia.."_ And then she was easing on the breaks til they came to a stop.

_I don't need to be a hero tonight._

  She stared at him, and he stared back before Lydia was in the back of the jeep, wrapped up in the other boy, crying into his fabricated chest. He was there, and he was with her, and he was whispering soothing words into her ear.

 

      _"I don't blame you Lydia. I know you were just upset. I didn't mean any of it. I.. I love you, I love you so much, I've loved you since I saw you crying in the corner.. It's always been you."_

 


End file.
